


Exchange Program

by fleurlb



Category: Orange is the New Black, Parks and Recreation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: Leslie steers the Parks department into taking part in an exchange program with a federal prison.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stillscape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillscape/gifts).



> This crossover takes place at an indeterminate point in time, sort of early Season Two of both shows. Because of the geographic distance between Pawnee and Litchfield, Litchfield had to come to Pawnee. Please hand wave and suspend disbelief as needed. Any errors or lapses in canon are all mine. Also, I do not speak Spanish, so Google Translate helped me out.
> 
> Thank you for the opportunity to combine two outstanding ensemble casts of fantastic characters. I hope you enjoy the gift!

The producer gestured for Leslie to take a seat behind her desk. He looked over the notes he'd taken on the pilot program that Leslie wanted the Parks department to participate he in. 

“Okay, Leslie, this looks like a tremendous opportunity-”

“It is!” She cut in with her typical enthusiasm, which still made his teeth hurt. He held up a hand, and she stopped immediately.

“Let's save it for the camera, which is going to be on in a couple minutes. I want you to talk about what the program is, why you're passionate about it, and what you hope to achieve.”

Leslie nodded and then looked down while she composed herself. The producer looked at the cameraman, who was ready to start filming.

“All right then....in five...four...” he stopped talking and used hand gestures for the remaining numbers. Leslie looked up, smiled briefly and then launched into her spiel.

“No many people know this, but on the very western edge of Pawnee, we have a medium security prison. The good people of Wamapoke County, including my great-great grandfather, built the prison during Prohibition times so that they'd have somewhere to lock up the drunks and moonshiner runners. And, well, it didn't really work out that great, but the it was a good strong building.”

Leslie folded her hands and flipped her hair out of her eyes. She looked right into the camera. “Last year, the prison was leased by the federal government to alleviate some crowding...and, well, let's be honest, some asbestos and other environmental problems, in some of their east coast prisons. And the great drunk tank of Wamapoke is insulated with good old horsehair, so the we're hosting some guests from places like Litchfield Penitentiary.”

“In the interests of easing these inmates back into society, the low-risk ones are being invited to participate in a sort of work-study program. They'll get to work with the good people of the Parks and Rec department and study how to be law abiding.” Leslie paused to smile at her joke. 

“I am really quite excited about this program. I believe in rehabilitation and in paying your debt to society. I believe in bringing people into the community and in leading by example. I am really looking forward to working with and helping these women overcome their challenges.”

Leslie leaned in to the camera. “I am positive that this program is going to be one of the best things ever to hit Pawnee local government.” 

\---//---

The cameraman panned around the conference room. Jerry was sitting stiffly, trying to rub coffee off his shirt. Andy was goofing around with April. Donna was playing Candycrush on her phone. Tom was asleep, and Ann was sitting up straight, waiting for the meeting to start. Ron hadn't bothered to respond to Leslie's memo regarding the training session. In other words, it was a typical day.

Leslie came in and stood at the far end of the table. She cleared her voice and waiting until at least one person beside Ann was looking at her expectantly.

“I'm sure you're all wondering why I've gathered you together for this urgent training session.”

“You want to teach us how not to get shivved by the prisoners who are coming from the drunk tank to do all the shit around here that no one else wants to do, like clear the raccoon nests from the attic,” said April with her typical tact.

“That's not quite how I'd put it,” said Leslie, her smile brightening to hide her discomfort. “There's no keeping secrets from you though, April.”

“That's because I open all the mail and you dictate responses to me like you think this is 1950. Or at least some messed up version of 1950-”

“Thank you, April! You're right, this meeting is about the work-study exchange that we're going to be doing with some women who are currently doing time in the Wamapoke Prison.”

“Exchange program, you say?” asked Tom, sitting up and seeming like he'd been awake the whole time. “I volunteer to go there.”

“It's not exchange program like that. It's an exchange program where our guests get valuable lessons in exchange for helping out with some basic labor.”

“Oh, I see, it's a chain gang,” said Donna. The expression on her face was that of someone who had smelled the leftovers in the fridge and found them rotten. 

Leslie shook her head vigorously. “No, no, no. That's not what it is at all. I appreciate all the interest in the program, but I think our special guest will be able to explain it better. Please welcome Mr. Caputo.”

A rumpled man with a comically long moustache slouched up to stand next to Leslie. “Thank you, Miss Knope. I wish I could give you some great big spiel about how this program is going to be the key that unlocks opportunities for these women. I don't know, maybe it will. All I know is that community outreach was part of the deal that got us shipped here, so here we are, reaching out into the community.”

“I think what Mr. Caputo is trying to say is that by offering an open hand, we can work together to solve the problems of the incarcerated,” interrupted Leslie.

“I don't think that's what he was saying at all,” said Andy. “In fact, I'm pretty sure that he was saying exactly the opposite.”

“Look, what I'm saying is that the genie is out of the bottle, so let's talk practicalities. Do not ask any of these women what she did. It's rude and you're not likely to get a good answer anyway. Everyone is prison claims innocence, so do not be suckered by sob stories. Do not let any two of these women be out of your sight for any period of time, not for any reason.”

“I would like to know why. In great detail,” said Tom.

“I'm sure you would,” replied Mr. Caputo, leveling a world-weary stare at Tom that wiped the smirk right off his face when he realized that the details were not forthcoming.

“And finally-”

“Don't feed them after midnight?” guessed Andy.

“No. Don't leave out anything that you don't want to have stolen.”

“You know, someone keeps stealing my lunch from the staff ice box, so I'm sure they're going to fit in just fine here,” grumped Jerry while Donna, Tom, April, and Andy all looked at the ceiling.

\---//---

The camera panned to Leslie and Ann, standing on the side of the prison cafeteria, whispering to each other. When zoomed in, it was clear that Ann was trying to convince Leslie to drop the drop-the-soap joke. And Leslie was insisting that the key to all good public speaking was starting with the joke.

A guard stepped up to the front of the room and shouted for everyone to quiet down. Eventually, they did, and Leslie stepped up beside him. She was wearing her best power suit and her 1000-watt smile.

“Welcome, ladies, to the great county of Wamapoke. I am sorry that we have to meet under such circumstances, but I hope that you're finding your accommodation as comfortable as possible.” Leslie glanced over at Ann, who shook her head emphatically.

In the three-second lull, one of the inmates shouted “Why this place smell like whisky?”

Leslie smiled. “As a matter of historic interest, this... facility was built at the start of Prohibition as a place to rehabilitate drunks and punish moonshiner makers and runners. It was the largest facility of its kind for 500 miles.”

“And what, you ain't never aired it out in 100 years? I think I've got a drunk on just from staying here.”

“That's enough, Inmate Hayes! Let Miss Knope speak,” barked a guard.

Leslie cleared her throat, lifted her chin, and continued. “I want to sincerely thank you for your interest in. My colleague, Ann, and I are here today to interview each of you for the exchange program with the Pawnee Parks and Recreation Department. We have opportunities for approximately seven of you, so we're looking forward to getting to know you and selecting the right individuals to work with us.”

“Are there any-” Leslie began before the prison guard cut her off. 

“Any questions can be addressed in the interviews. Inmates, get back to whatever you're supposed to be doing and you'll be called when it's your turn. Try not to mess this up!”

\---//---

The interviews took place in Mr. Caputo's office, which he graciously vacated for them. Ann and Leslie sat on the “business” side of the desk while they interviewed what seemed like every inmate in the place. 

“So it says here,” said Leslie, looking down at binder of makeshift resumes, “That you used to run a soap business?”

“That's right. Handmade artisanal soap in Brooklyn. I know what you're thinking. What an asshole I must be,” said the bored-looking blonde on the other side of the desk.

Leslie shook her head. “No, that's not what I was thinking at all.”

“Then you were probably thinking what a nice girl like me is doing in a place like this.”

“Well, I kind of was, but I don't think I'm allowed to ask questions like that, so I just put it right out of my mind.”

//cutaway//

Leslie cleared her throat and sent a sharp look at Ann. Neither woman seemed to know what question to ask the seriously ill woman in front of them. Her breath was raspy and she had a portable oxygen tank at her side.

“Miss Rosa, I'm sorry, I think it probably just best to be direct here,” said Ann, taking care with each word. “What are you hoping to get out of the exchange program?”

“Nothing. Anyone who signs up for an interview gets two hours off of work duty.”

Leslie's eyes widened in shock. “Miss Rosa, you're not saying that you have to do work duty in your condition, are you?”

A small smile played on Rosa's face. “No, honey, I'm not. I just wanted a change of scenery and to talk to someone new. I know that I won't be going anywhere good any time soon.”

//cutaway//

Leslie tried not to stare at the woman's hair, but it was shaped into two giant circles that looked just like Mickey Mouse ears. Ann elbowed her in the ribs, hard, again.

“I'm sorry, can you repeat the question?” asked Leslie, shaking her head in a dazed fashion.

“What makes this not a chain gang?”

Ann laughed. “That's exactly what Donna said! I think you'd get along really well with Donna.”

“Lemme guess, Donna is the only black woman in your office?”

Leslie reached out and touched one of the Mickey Mouse ears. Cindy Hayes sat straight back and gave her the kind of side eye that could cut glass.

“You know what you just did?” she asked.

“Pretty much guaranteed that you'll be one of the seven?” asked Ann nervously.

“You're sharp for a little white girl,” replied Cindy with a wide, warm smile. “I think I'm going to like you just fine.”

//cutaway//

“Tasha, have a seat. So nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Tastee. Everyone does. I damn near forget what my real name is.”

“Tastee,” replied Leslie, trying it out and apparently finding it pleasing. “What would you be hoping to get out of the exchange program?”

“A couple hours away from here would be a good thing. And I wouldn't mind learning some new skills. I won a contest before for business skills, so I think some government skills would be a good counterbalance.”

Leslie's smile was wide as she drew a small check-mark next to Tastee's name. 

//cutaway//

“So, Nicky, what would you say your greatest weakness is?” asked Leslie.

“Super-attractive brunettes,” replied Nicky, with a wink and leer in Ann's direction. “And heroin. I've got a huge weakness for heroin.”

//cutaway//

“I don't want to waste your time,” said the brunette with the hiply square eye glasses as she sat down. “But I'm only here to get the time off my work detail. I'm on the ground crew and there are only so many weeds a girl can pick, am I right?”

“Thank you, Alex, for your candor,” said Leslie. “But we should probably still do the interview right, don't you think?”

//cutaway//

“Hello, Norma, how are you?” asked Leslie.

The woman sitting across from her gave a small smile and a nod.

“What skills do you think you could bring to the exchange program?” 

Norma held out her hands, palms up, and gave a small shrug.

“Maybe it would help you to hear a little bit about the program?” asked Ann.

Norma smiled and nodded. Leslie launched into a long description, encouraged by Norma's smiles and nods. Ann filled in some additional details, and both women were surprised when Mr. Caputo rapped on the door and told them that the time was up.

Several minutes after Norma left the room, Ann's eyes widened. “Leslie, I don't think she said a single word.”

Leslie cocked her head to the side as though she was replaying the entire interview. “I think you're right. And you know what, I really liked her.”

//cutaway//

“So you see,” said the taller girl who had a teardrop tattoo underneath her eye. Or maybe it was just crazy eyeliner. Leslie couldn't tell for sure, and after the debacle with Cindy Hayes, she did not want to ask. “We're kind of like a package deal. If you pick one of us, you've got to pick the both of us.”

The shorter, pretty girl made a noise of agreement and gave a curt nod. “For sure, you can't have Flaca without Maritza, and you can't have Maritza without Flaca. The world just don't work that way.”

“I see,” said Leslie, still wondering about the teardrop. “But what if there's only one spot left? The bus only has seven seats.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. I can totally sit in her lap. I'm super small and I don't usually get carsick.”

//cutaway//

“Can I just say that you're both really lovely, even though I don't think that either of you are dressing to your full potential?” said Lorna Morello.

“Um, thank you,” said Ann.

“If I had a rack like yours, I'd sure show it off. I mean that as a compliment, you know.”

“You know, I tell her the same thing all the time,” said Leslie. “Only, you know, not quite so crudely.”

//cutaway//

Leslie sat back in her seat, clearly a little unnerved by Suzanne Warren's wide-eyed stare. 

“I'm sorry, can you repeat the question?” asked Suzanne, shaking her head in a dazed fashion.

“I asked you what special skills you have that you could bring to the exchange program,” replied Leslie.

“Um....I like to clean and I'm not afraid of any kind of mess, because let me tell you, I've seen it all. There are some nasty people in here. Some nice people, too, though. Don't want you to get the wrong idea.”

Before Leslie could ask the next question, Suzanne leaned across the desk and stroked Leslie's hair. “I'm sorry, I was trying so hard not to do that, but your hair, it's like spun gold. I just couldn't resist.”

\---//---  
Back at the office the next day, Ann and Leslie shut themselves into a conference room with binders of inmate applications and the copious notes they had taken during the interviews. In the end, they had over fifty applications for only seven openings. 

“How do Harvard and Survivor do it?” asked Leslie, frazzled.

“Well, I suppose Harvard bases it on criteria, like GPA, SAT, and whether your parents went to Harvard. And Survivor probably looks at the tapes and tries to figure out who is going to behave most outrageously.”

Leslie pursued her lips and nodded. “You're right, as always, Ann. I think we probably want to be more like Harvard than Survivor. So maybe our criteria could be... a positive attitude, relevant skills, and...”

“Who is least likely to shiv you in the back?” asked April, causing the other two to jump.

“How long have you been sitting there?” asked Leslie.

“The whole time,” said April. “Ron asked me to sit in to make sure you weren't going to pick anyone who would be a liability for the department. Although he also said a big lawsuit would dry up the dripping teat of government, so either way, it probably doesn't matter.”

“Please leave,” said Leslie. “If Ron wants to participate in the program, he can come in here and do it himself.”

April shrugged and left the room, leaving Leslie and Ann to continue puzzling over who would be the best fit for the program.

It was nearly dark when Ron walked into the room and took the list of applicants out of Leslie's hands. 

“This is a ridiculous bureaucratic waste of time. I'll pick.” He picked up a pen and looked down at the list, frowning. He began to check names and cross others off the list, in some cases undoing the choices that Leslie and Ann had already made.

“But Ron, you haven't talked to a single one of the applicants,” protested Leslie.

“Talking is highly overrated. One last choice..... Maritza Flaca. Done. April, fax!”

April stood up from a chair in the corner, once again causing Leslie and Ann to jump.

“How long have you been sitting there?” asked Ann.

April just gave the camera her patented “seriously?” look before plucking the list out of Ron's hand. Ron followed her out. 

“Maritza Flaca?” said Ann. “He's picked eight.”

“Well, they did say they're a package deal. I'm sure it'll be fine. The little one can sit in the tall one's lap. We can sure use the extra help around here.”

\---//---

The morning that the exchange program started, Leslie agonized over how to greet the bus. Should they all be outside? Should only she be outside? Should they do the Pledge of Allegiance or sing “America the Beautiful”, just to set the right tone? 

In the end, rational heads prevailed, and Leslie and Ann waited outside like good hostesses. The bus that pulled up was more like a van than a bus, and Leslie was relieved that there were no shackles or chains. No one could accuse them of running a chain gang if there were no chains. 

“Welcome to Pawnee, ladies, we're so happy to have you join us,” said Leslie when the door opened. A large male prison guard stepped out, and Leslie smiled brightly and waited for the first woman to step out before she repeated her warm welcome.

“Well, we're happy to be here in the fresh air, let me tell you. Those whisky fumes are going to my head,” said Tastee as she stepped down from the bus. Cindy was next, followed by Suzanne, who gave Leslie a slightly unhinged smile, but at least no one's hair was touched. 

Nicky stepped out next, winking at Ann. “Nice to see you again,” she drawled, somehow making the words sound like the most filthy thing that Leslie had ever heard.

Piper and Alex were next, and then finally, Maritza hopped off the bus followed by Flaca, who groaned and stretched. “I don't think you're as little as you think you are.”

“Inmates, we will be stationed at the doors of this facility, and you are not permitted to leave the premises. Anyone who attempts to do so will be sent to the SHU and have additional time added on to her sentence. Do you understand?” barked the second prison guard.

A chorus of grumbles and nods followed, and Leslie took that as her cue to take over. “I'm sure we're not going to have any trouble, officer. Now, please follow me and we'll get this party started.”

//cutaway//

April waited at the front desk, wondering what sort of disaster the day was going to be, hoping for something spectacular. She soon found herself face to face with two women, not much older than she, one with teardrop tattoos on her face.  
_  
“Que coño tu mira?”_ asked the pretty one.

 _“No es una maldita cosa,”_ said April.

The two women looked at each and slowly smiled.

_“Estoy Maritza y esto es Flaca.”_

Flaca gave a small wave. _“Yo no creo que ningún lugar sería más aburrido que la cárcel. ¿Qué hay que hacer aquí?”_

_“Por lo general, triturar la materia que debe ser enviado por fax y fax cosas que necesita ser triturado. Y leí un montón de revistas.”_

“Ladies, I really think there should be more working and less speaking Spanish,” said Leslie, nervously.

“ _Vete!_ ”, said all three girls together. Then April led the other two into the conference room and shut the door.

//cutaway//

“Alex, Piper, and Nicky, you'll be working with Andy today. He's a bit of a jack-of-all-trades around here, so I'm sure you'll find the day very interesting,” said Leslie.

“Ladies,” said Andy with a strange, courtly bow. Nicky stifled a laugh.

Leslie led the remaining women away while Andy looked vaguely befuddled. He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to be doing, but he knew he wasn't supposed to ask anyone what she was in for and he wasn't to leave any two of them alone. And from the way that Piper and Alex stood practically on top of each other, Andy was in no doubt that he would be in big trouble if he left them alone.

“So, this is my shoe shine stand. I shine shoes all day.”

“Wait a minute, what does shining shoes have to do with local government?” asked Alex.

“Yeah, are people's tax dollars paying for this service? I would be supremely pissed if my tax dollars were going to keep politicians shoes shiny,” added Piper.

“Um, no, each individual pays me, and then I get to keep a percentage of that money, then the rest goes to the city for rent and what-not, I guess,” said Andy.

“Oh my god! I know who you remind me of,” exclaimed Nicky. “You're like Luscheck!”

“I'm not really up on NHL players. The NFL is more of my thing,” said Andy.

“He definitely could be Luscheck's cuter, dumber, little brother, couldn't he?” said Alex.

“I think we're going to get along just fine,” said Piper, patting Andy on the head as she climbed up into the shoe shine seat.

//cutaway//

“Tell me again, Leslie, how this isn't a chain gang?” demanded Donna when Leslie brought Cindy Hayes to her desk.

“See, that's what I said!” Cindy nodded in agreement. “Ain't no way this isn't some kind of chain gang.”

“Well, for one thing, there are no chains,” said Leslie with a grim smile.

“And for another,” said Ron, stepping in to meet his exchange program participant, “Your participation is entirely voluntary. If you're not happy here, you can go back.”

“I'm happy,” said Cindy quickly, sitting down at Donna's desk. “Now what are we doing here?”

“Glad to hear it,” said Ron. “Now which of you is Tasha?”

“That's me. And you can call me Tastee.”

“I will not. Nicknames are unnecessary frivolity and have no place in adult society. Now please follow me.”

Tastee cast a longing eye at Cindy's cushy assignment and followed Ron.

//cutaway//  
“So I guess that just leaves you and me,” said Suzanne with an excited smile. 

“Well, not exactly, although I do have the most important job for you. You're going to have to come up to the fourth floor with me. You don't mind wearing special equipment, do you?”

“You mean like a helmet or a face mask? I love helmets and face masks!”

“And are you okay with small, enclosed spaces?” asked Leslie as they climbed the stairs.

“Am I ever!” 

“And how do you feel about wild animals?” asked Leslie.

“I love them!” replied Suzanne, clapping her hands.

“Well, Suzanne, then I feel entirely comfortable entrusting you with the most important job that we have in City Hall. Please, take this broom, put on this safety equipment, and go up into the attic and relocate the family of raccoons that's living up there.”

“Raccoons!” exclaimed Suzanne. “This day just gets better and better.”

//cutaway//

“The first thing you need to know, Tasha, is that the government is a greedy piglet that suckles on the taxpayer's teat until they have sore, chapped nipples.”

“Hold on a minute while I write that down, Mr. Swanson,” said Tastee. 

Ron put up a hand. “I don't want you writing things down. I want you to breathe in what I say and let it become part of you.”

“Right, breathe in. I can do that.” Tastee put her pen and notebook away.

//cutaway//

“Suzanne, you need to get the young raccoons into the cage, and then we'll take them somewhere safe and release them,” said Leslie, craning her neck to look up into the attic.

“But they're so cute. I just want to take one back with me. I promise to take really good care of it.”

“Please don't make me come up there after you. And don't cradle the raccoons like that. We have no idea if they have rabies or not.”

“They look just fine to me.”

Leslie took a deep breath and tentatively put a foot on the ladder into the attic. “I'm coming up!”

//cutaway//

Tom handed Cindy and Donna tall pumpkin spice lattes. “You've got to treat yo self!”

Cindy took a sip. “It tastes like hot sugared socks.”

“You get used to it,” said Donna.

“I sure could get used to treat yo self day, that's for sure.”

\---//---

At the end of the day, Leslie stood in front of the prison van while the camera man framed the final shot of the day. Inside the van, everyone was trying to sit as far away from Suzanne as possible, because she was clearly smuggling a small raccoon under her shirt. Maritza and Flaca waved out the window to April, who was standing on the steps next to Ron. She had three small teardrops drawn under her left eye.

Leslie had cobwebs in her hair and a smear of dust across her face. Her blazer was torn where the the male raccoon had taken a hefty bite out of it. But she raised her chin and looked directly into the camera.

“Community outreach is one of our core values, and these ladies are part of our community now. I really hope that we've been able to show them the pathways and opportunities for being productive members of society. I believe that prison is about rehabilitation, not retribution. The Parks and Recreation Department will be here for them when they are ready to rejoin society.”

Tastee leaned forward to shout out the front passenger window before the bus pulled way. “Mr. Swanson, I hope you bring the whole crumbling shebang down to the ground.”

Ron raised his coffee mug and smiled.

/fin


End file.
